9 AM Service
A few rows behind me a baby is crying during the opening hymn.
No one is bothered.
Her cries are cute and playful.
She isn’t screaming, but singing along and off tune.
Her little brother tries to keep her quiet by shaking a rattle.
She quiets down the louder he shakes.
They are the back row band and no one is bothered.
Everyone is just happy they are here.
I am in the middle of the pew on the right side of the church.
To my left are two women approximately double my age.
To my right are my wife, her mother, and another couple I can’t quite see.
I like sitting in the coveted aisle seat.
In the middle I feel trapped.
I am bothered, but I’ll survive.
Everyone has their cross to bear.
Next to me is an elderly woman with hearing aids. She is a whole foot shorter than I am. I feel like Goliath. She wears her gray hair the same way my Memaw did. Memaw’s photo hung in the living room of my childhood home. It is still hanging there and we are still missing her. On her left wrist the woman wears a silver watch. The face of the watch is rectangular and I think it’s the kind my Memaw used to wear, but I’m not certain. 1994 was a long time ago and I wasn’t even 5 years old when she passed. The woman has a beautiful voice, but isn’t trying to be heard by the people three rows in front of her. The lady behind me is. She is auditioning for Heaven’s Got Talent, belting every word as if God is hard of hearing.
He isn’t.
God hears even our quietest thoughts.
A man walks in 5 minutes after the service begins with his cup of coffee.
A few of us turn around to greet him.
We smile and he smiles back.
No one is bothered.
We are just happy he’s here.
My ADHD thrives during Sunday worship.
It is set off by every sudden sound and movement.
It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.
When I was a young boy my mother would whisper in my ear no less than 10 times during a service and say, “Be still.”
I was a headache as a child.
If you ever see me sitting still during worship you must know that it’s because I am only focusing on sitting as still as possible.
Across the aisle is the family we sat in front of two Sundays ago.
Two boys and a girl.
Their oldest has grown a foot since last summer.
Last year he looked like he was going into 7th grade, but now he looks like he’s a financial advisor.
Their daughter is looking more like her mother with every passing week.
Their youngest now wears glasses.
Last year he didn’t.
Maybe next Summer he will wear contacts.
We’ll see.
When it comes time to confess our sins I once again apologize for how distracted I am.
I don’t know if being distracted is a sin, but I wish I was better at paying attention.
I tell myself to focus, focus, focus, but just as I am thinking this, someone sneezes and my head turns as if I were a dog and someone said, “Squirrel!”
Later in the service our Pastor reminds us of when Jesus spoke to a crowd of 5,000 people.
The Bible says, Jesus “had compassion on them and healed their sick.”
I wonder how many mothers brought their children to be healed by Jesus and said, “They just can’t seem to sit still during worship!”
As the story goes, the day went on and on as the people kept their attention on Jesus.
Even the ones sitting in the middle of the row.
Night was coming and the disciples went to Jesus and said, “It’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.”
Jesus responded and said, “They don’t need to leave. You give them something to eat.”
I imagine this is when the disciples looked at each other and then collectively said, “uh-what-now?”
And I imagine Jesus gives the look that says, “Did I stutter?”
The disciples replied, “We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish.”
Our Pastor highlights the word, “only.”
The disciples don’t think five loaves of bread and two fish are enough to feed 5,000 people.
I can’t blame them.
But I’m like them and forget that Jesus can do a lot with a little.
I scribble down in my bulletin: bring Jesus what you have and be ready to be amazed.
Sometimes I think I need more, but more often than not I am reminded I have all I need and more.
Psalm 23 is right.
The Lord is my Shepherd, I lack nothing.
Jesus multiplied the five loaves of bread and two fish.
Everyone ate and everyone was satisfied.
Because that’s what Jesus does: He satisfies.
After the sermon we are invited to the table, to eat the bread and drink the wine.
Just like the 5,000 I am fed by Jesus.
All these years later and He is still feeding us.
Again, I am reminded how good a gift giver God is.
Again, I am reminded that our needs do not bother Him.
Again, I am reminded that I am welcome.
I sit back down in the middle of the pew and watch as others walk to the altar to receive Christ’s body and Christ’s blood.
Everyone around me is signing, but I’m watching as the people slowly make their way forward
It’s a hopeful walk.
Their eyes are fixed ahead.
Their hands are ready to receive tangible grace.
As I watch I wonder why they chose to be here on a Sunday morning.
And I think I know.
They are here to worship and receive.
They are here to love and be loved.
They are here to rest and remember.
They are here to be fed and forgiven.
They are here, because they know Jesus satisfies.
About the Author
Tanner Olson is an author, poet, speaker, and podcaster living in Nashville, Tennessee.
He is the author of I’m All Over the Place, As You Go, Walk A Little Slower, and Continue: Poems and Prayers of Hope.
You can find Tanner Olson’s books on Amazon.
His podcast is The Walk A Little Slower Podcast with Tanner Olson and can be found wherever you listen to podcasts.
Tanner Olson travels around the country sharing poetry, telling stories, and delivering messages of hope.
You can follow Tanner Olson on Instagram (@writtentospeak) and Facebook where you’ll daily find encouraging words of faith and hope.
